


Nightmares

by grav_ity



Series: grav_ity plays dragon age origins [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grav_ity/pseuds/grav_ity
Summary: Becoming a Grey Warden didn't put all of Kentha's regular nightmares to rest. (Spoilers: Ostagar II, Achievement Unlocked: First Knight)





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO FRIENDS!
> 
> I am still very new, but I have zero complaints.

The inside of the tent was dark, but it was the good kind of darkness. Kentha was nestled in the bedroll and the night was quiet and warm. It was as comforting a way as any to wake from a nightmare.

“That didn’t sound like a typical Warden dream,” Alistair said. His voice was clear of sleep, and she was glad she hadn’t woken him by thrashing about.

“It wasn’t,” Kentha said. “There were darkspawn, of course, but the fears were all my own.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alistair came closer, not quite hovering, and waited to see if she wanted to be held. “Or do you want me to make a joke about how learning our illustrious leader has normal fears makes you more human and inspires our loyalty?”

“I have never questioned your loyalty,” Kentha said, and he took it as it was: permission to pull her into his arms and wait her out.

It should make her nervous, the ease with which he read her and the way she allowed herself to be read. But, as he had pointed out, nothing was as it should be. At the very least, as the senior Grey Warden, he _should_ be in charge. Yet he followed her without question or complaint, and moreover, he seemed relieved to do so. It was a conversation they hadn’t got to yet, and Kentha wasn’t exactly in a hurry. They had a great deal going on, in any case.

“It’s Ostagar,” she said a long moment after she had settled herself against him. “The second time.”

He breathed deeply and pressed kisses against the crown of her head where she had tucked it into his neck. Ostagar was nothing but loss for both of them, when it should have been something else.

“Only it’s not Cailan’s body I find on the bridge, staked out and splayed, so befouled even the crows haven’t touched him.”

He took a breath and held it, and she knew that he had seen the next part before she said the words. But she had to say them, having come this far.

“It’s yours,” she said. She didn’t mean to shiver, holding back some storm of emotion she’d kept locked down since the night she had first met Duncan and all of this disaster had begun. “It’s your body I pull down and burn.”

For a long while, he said nothing, and she knew it was because he was thinking. Always ready to play the fool, setting everyone at their ease and charming old women, Alistair could be wise when he was trying, and he always, always tried his best for her. Kentha never took it for granted, because she knew what it cost him to stand out.

“I have a comforting thought that might not actually be a comfort,” he said at last. “Shall I tell you?”

If it had been daylight, if she had been on her feet instead of in the circle of his body, she might have pressed through. But it was dark, and even in that good darkness, she wanted the full measure of him, offered freely and given with his whole heart, as it always was.

She raised her chin, meeting his eyes, and kissed him. His mouth was warm and soft, and he gave way without her making any demand of him. She thought she would never grow tired of his taste, of the way his breath caught, of the way his fingers slid over her body, searching for more.

“Tell me, then,” she said.

He held her face in his hands, leaving all her weight to press down on his body. He had kissed her in the forest, both of them covered in blood and with Leiliana’s laughter ringing in their ears, and it had been strangely tender, but it was nothing as tender as this.

“If something happens to me, you’ll be right there,” he said. “In fact chances are pretty good that whoever is doing something to me will have had to go through you do it. I’m saying it wrong, I think, but, you won’t have to see.”

It would have been easy to break his hold, to lose herself in him then, but she owed him more than that right now.

“And it won’t be because you failed,” he continued. “It’ll be because you did everything humanly possible—and probably a few things that weren’t—but you were still overrun.”

“I didn’t have to watch my parents die, or Duncan,” Kentha said. “And I’m glad of it. I see people die all the time, but I don’t like watching, especially when it’s someone I—”

This time he did interrupt her, pulling her mouth back to his and stopping whatever word she was going to say next before she had the chance to think about whether or not she was going to say it. Sprawled on top of him as she was, she felt the heat of his body, the familiar hardness pressing against her thigh, and she surrendered.

He rolled them over, and had she been the sort of girl her mother hoped for, she might have swooned in the face of the strength of his arms and the kindness of his touch. Alas, that girl had died with her parents, and the one who lived now was harder by necessity. Still, she could not help but be moved by him, by the power of his body and the sureness of his heart, and the way he turned himself to her pleasure, as though it cost him nothing at all to give.

It was a short matter before she was ready, and the deliberation with which he took her had her heart racing with the thrill of him. His hands and his mouth worked over her, pressing every advantage to push her towards the edge of her undoing, but as usual, it was his smile, the pure joy of him, that took them over.

Maker preserve this moment, when they were both alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Still about halfway through. Please do not spoil me.


End file.
